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Lesbian Poetry

The Crush

By dsweet1

To admire her is to love her.
Yet, I admire her daily
but cannot touch her.

With eyes that seem to know
and meet my gaze,
to melt my heart
and colour my cheeks.

"She must know.",
I say to myself.
After all they say that we know our own.

Perhaps she doesn't know.
Doesn't sense my womynly thoughts
or know how her careless touches can humble me so
when inadvertently she brushes near.

What inner turmoil
and utter torture to feel like this.

Involuntary enlistment as a soldier in the game.

Unavoidable
from our first moment "aware" as womyn.

She is as compelling
as she is unattainable.

She is

my crush...

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...Never Never Land...
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